Hour of the Wolf
by Mountain King
Summary: The Battle of Wolf 359, the Federation Fleet faces the monstrous Borg Cube in a desperate attempt to defend sector 001. All seems lost when an ancient warship, the last defender of a dying people, offers it's aid. Changing the destiny of the Alpha Quadrant forever.
1. Teaser

Hour of the Wolf  
Teaser

Disclaimer

I do not own either Star Trek or Battlestar They were created by Gene Roddenberry and Glen A. Larson and are owned by CBS and Universal respectively.

* * *

Admiral Hanson looked out from the bridge of the Kyushu as the Saratoga was hit. 'Report!' he shouted to his Operations officer.

'Five ships destroyed, four disabled.' The Vulcan announced, a trace of fear in her normally tightly controlled voice. Not that the Admiral could blame her, they'd only engaged the Cube thirty minutes earlier and already nearly half the fleet were already gone. Then the Melbourne's saucer section was shot at with a Borg cutting beam and was torn in half.

Hanson watched as several hundred people, officers and family were killed. After a terrible moment life boats and shuttles began to launch, broadcasting their automated emergency signals. There wasn't nearly enough space on the handful of ships for a full ship's compliment. If something didn't drastically change the whole fleet, every ship and crewman he'd been able to pull together in the quadrant, would be gone.

'We can't win this one Admiral, we must regroup.' His First Officer announced, echoing his own concerns.

'Where? Earth?' Hanson asked. 'We pulled every ship we could to make a stand here. We have to at least do enough damage to slow them down!' The Borg cube fired a salvo of energy pulses at the Kyushu.

'Shields down.' T'Lau called out from Ops. 'Engineering reports the emitters were fused, some sort of phased polaron pulse overloaded the relays.'

'Just like the others. We have to pull back.' Hanson's first officer snapped.

'No! That's exactly what they want. To give them more space, to split us up and take our ships out one at a time.' The Borg's opening salvo of the same strange energy weapon had devastated the shields of most of the fleet, Hanson had made the mistake of ordering them to pull back and repair. That gave the immense Cube the chance it needed to outmanoeuvre his fleet. He wasn't going to fall for it again.

'Sir, without shields we have no defences, those tractor beams will rip us apart.' That was the nightmare they were faced with and Hanson knew it all too well.

'No choice, we have to stop the Borg here. If we fall the Sol system doesn't stand a chance.' Only a day or so earlier one of his closest friends and one of the best captain's of the fleet Jean-Luc Picard had been captured by the Borg. From the reports of the Enterprise, his ship, Picard had been changed by the enemy. Converted, somehow, into one of them, all his tactical and fleet knowledge twisted against everything both him and Hanson stood for.

Hanson had to out think his enemy, his old friend. If he was honest he wasn't sure if he had it in him. Staring through the view screen at the monolithic spacecraft he realised he only had one play left. A desperate gamble that it would work and buy enough time for what was left of his fleet to either escape or finish the fight.

The Admiral tapped into the ships intercom on his arm rest, realising he was about to give what was going to be his last order. 'All hands to the escape pods, abandon ship.' Flicking the control from internal to external he haled the fleet. 'This is Hanson, all ships break off. Prepare for warp core breach. I say again, pull back. My ships core is about to breach.'

For a moment his crew looked at him. Breaching a ship's warp core was a desperate move. To try to destroy the Cube with the Matter-Antimatter explosion was literally suicide, but it would take out the Cube. Even if the Borg caught the Kyushu with a tractor beam enough of their ship would be in the blast radius to disable it.

Hanson's first officer nodded soberly, saluted crisply just before agreeing. 'You heard the order, everyone to the escape pods.' but he didn't move.

'Mike…'

'With respect sir there should always be at least two officers on the bridge at all times.'

Hanson let himself smile. 'I was quoting the regulations to my superiors before you graduated the academy Mike. Alright, anyone who wants to stay, stay and be damned.'

No one moved.

'I don't think I could ask for a finer crew, or better friends. Thank you all.' Hanson told them. 'Set course for the Cube and prepare to launch the escape pods.'

'Admiral!' T'Lau shouted. 'We have sensor contact, incoming now!'

'The Enterprise?' Hanson asked, hoping the Federation flagship had repaired its damage and joined them.

The Vulcan hadn't looked away from her console, 'Sorry Admiral. The displacement profile is too big'

'Another Cube?' his executive officer gasped, voicing Hanson's own fears.

'No, the energy signature doesn't look anything like I've seen before. Bringing it onscreen.' The view screen rippled and Hanson almost swallowed his tongue. It was huge, dull grey and totally alien. He'd never seen anything like it, the main hull was an immense wedge with a wide flat point at the front, it narrowed off slightly in the middle before widening to the raised engines at the back. You could easily fit the entire Kyushu in that engine section, with room to spare. Either side of the narrow section was what looked like a pair of oversized turned down warp nacelles. The titanic craft seemed to glide past the fleet effortlessly, changing pitch and yaw to almost dance between ships wreckage. A ship that size had no right to manoeuvre like that.

For a moment Hanson thought it was showing off but as the newcomer got between the Cube and the swarm of escape pods he recognised the tactic. It was protecting them. The Borg saw what it was doing about the same time he did and began to fire on the unknown with more phased polaron pulses. The green energy spattered harmlessly on the dull grey ship. The shots, designed to disrupt complicated energy shields, were absorbed by it's hull, shrugged off and ignored.

Then the strange ship returned fire from multiple points, its own energy weapons bypassing the Borg's adaptive shields and causing damage where Federation phasers couldn't. 'T'Lau?' Hanson asked

She knew the question. 'High energy plasma weapons Admiral. Primitive compared to our own, but the shear output is impressive.' She was right, even from here Hanson could see the weapons causing small fires on the Cube's superstructure. The Borg responded with a tractor beam. The sparkling green energy field captured a small portion of the attacking ship. The massive engines flared and the beam struggled to fight against the intense power of those thrusters. A second and a third tractor beam lanced out, trying to get a better grip, but they did very little to stop the oncoming vessel as it orientated it's nose straight at it's target.

The giant ship was in position to fire it's main weapon and did so spectacularly. An orange beam of destruction unlike anything Hanson had seen before came from the ships prow and hit the Cube. 'My god.' the Admiral whispered breathlessly. The single blast had obliterated nearly a quarter of the Borg ship, taking out the whole lower port section and then some. Great gouts of atmosphere emptied into the vacuum of space from the gruesome wound, sending debris and scores of drones tumbling into the airless void.

A second blast came from that mighty weapon, punishing the already stricken Cube. This one seemed to be even more devastating, igniting secondary explosions that seemed to ripple under the Cube's superstructure as countless conduits and other systems detonated. 'T'Lau, report on the Cube's status.' Hanson ordered, fairly sure he already knew the answer.

The Operations officer was, if anything, greener than usual. 'Reading minimum power reserves from the Cube. Dwindling life signs. No subspace transmissions. They're dead in Space Admiral.'

'Our best analysis suggested a ship like that could operate with almost eighty percent critical damage. Check again.'

'I have sir. Reading ninety-two percent critical damage.' It was all Hanson could do to gape at her. The Cube truly was dead in space, like any number of Federation ships that had been destroyed. The amount of destructive power that had just been demonstrated was terrifying. Swallowing his fear the admiral turned to T'Lau. 'Hail that ship Commander. Let's meet the people that just saved our backsides.'

End teaser

* * *

Authors note

Okay I don't want ANYONE complaining about the Galactica being over powered here. I've done the math and Starfleet just doesn't have the firepower to match a Battlestar. Do you want to hear it? Good.

According to the Star Trek Wiki a Galaxy Class ship (the most powerful in the Federation at the time of Wolf 359) has eleven type eight phaser banks at any given time. A classic Battlestar has 32 heavy "turbo laser" turrets, each paired with a lighter anti-fighter turret above. That gives it nearly a 6 to 1 advantage over the Galaxy class on the number of support weapons alone.

While the Galaxy has an arsenal of torpedoes at their disposal the Galactica has a number of large Solonite missiles, each capable of destroying Cylon Basestar in a single hit and there is the front mega-lasers. Those things that devastated the Cube. Those are the Battlestar's main weapons and as well as being made to destroy heavy command ships with a single salvo they have another trick, they can be used to project a protective screen over the entire hemisphere of a decent sized planet. Photon torpedoes might be all well and good, but they aren't a match for weapons capable of cracking planets

Now the Trek fan will pull out the quote about lasers not being powerful enough to penetrate the shields, or the modified torpedo in voyager that wouldd destroy a planetoid. I'll go along with both statements, one problem though. Phasers are effective because they are particle beam weapons. It is said in the Galactica Pilot movie that their fighters are armed with "plasma torpedoes" when they fire their standard weapons. Colonial "laser" technology is not just a upgraded laser pointer, but instead plasma based energy weapons. In the Best of Both Worlds episodes it is mentioned that starfleet is working on a Plasma based Phaser.

Now you could argue that continuity wise that shouldn't count because it's never mentioned again. Neither is the ineffectuality of lasers, or that magic Torpedo. Sorry, but anyway you cut this the Galactica overpowers Star Trek.

Enough about that, if people like this idea I might come back and see where the story goes. If not then I'll slink back to my other stories with my tail between my legs.

Thomas


	2. Chapter One

The Hour of The Wolf  
Chapter One

Authors Note:-

Alright a little house keeping. This is indeed a Star Trek TNG and Battlestar Galactica TOS crossover. That means Starbuck is still a man, so is Boomer. The Cylons were built by an alien race. The colonies were destroyed at a peace conference and all that stuff.

However I will be bringing in a couple of things from Galactica 1980, you'll just have to see what. Although I can guarantee that there will be no Doctor Zee. Another thing there will be no is Muffet. I'm exorcising the silly dog played by a monkey in tinfoil (true, the damn thing was called Eve) I might reference it and the gruesome fate it received, but other than that it's gone.

On the other hand there is one thing I'm going to be taking from the remake. The FTL Drive. Let's face it there was no FTL in Classic Galactica. The closest we got was the Galactica itself reaching light speed in an episode (an impossibility in and of itself). Star Trek has Warp Drive, Galactica had… ? So I'm filling in the gap with the jump drive the Remake introduced.

Long story short the fleet hop along in space. Short jumps at a time. The Galactica (and her fighters) can do longer jumps than the rest of the fleet but as they are escorting they have to stick close. I know that will annoy the purists out there, but I see no other way to do it.

With that out of the way, let's go!

* * *

Chapter One

Will Riker looked at the empty chair in the ready room. 'Let him go.' Guinan had said. How could he do that. Jean-Luc Picard was more than a friend, more than a Captain. He was Will's mentor, his teacher and in so many ways a father figure. Not just to him, but to his whole crew.

When Will had first come onboard this ship he was a cocky, too big for his own boots, Commander. He'd raced up the command structure without a care in the world, convinced that he'd make Captain long before he was forty. Sure he worked hard for his rank, but he felt he deserved it. He'd argued with his captains and been proved right more than once. The Captain had seen through that ego charged act right away and ordered him to perform a manual docking with the saucer section.

That woke Will up. Next came Q and the offer to become a God. Again Captain Picard saw right to the heart of the issue in a way Will never could. For three years the Captain was there, sat in that chair and guided them with an insight Will Riker could never hope to match.

Shelby's arrival had reminded him of the arrogance he'd had at her age and losing Picard helped him realise what he had gained. He was now a Captain, a field promotion from Admiral Hanson and unless a review board questioned it, or he turned it down, Will Riker was in charge of the Enterprise. This wasn't the first captaincy he'd been offered, he'd rejected the others because he felt there was so much left for him to learn. He wasn't ready, Knowing what he had to do next he knew he'd never be ready.

The chair was still empty. Will had to do something about that, metaphorically as well as literally. Taking up the distance with two long strides Will walked past the desk and finally, ultimately sat down.

As he did so the comm chimed. 'Lieutenant Worf to Captain Riker.'

'Riker here.'

'We're receiving a message from Admiral Hanson. Sir, its a Code 47.'

Riker looked up at the ceiling. 'Confirm Mr Worf.'

'Have done sir. Code 47. Captain's eyes only.' The Klingon acknowledged. Code 47 was one of, if not the single most, secure communication codes in Starfleet. Only used in the direst emergencies or the utmost secret. It was almost never heard of and most Starfleet officers went their whole careers without hearing it. The only thing rarer was the almost mythical code Omega.

'Send it to my ready room Mr Worf.' Will turned the monitor around to face him. After the usual security checks he entered his authorisation code and submitted to an optical scan.

There was a brief few moments where the computer gave a long list of warnings about security and how any information divulged was of the utmost secrecy before Hanson came on the screen. 'Riker, I want you to order the Enterprise to a full stop. Right now.'

'Admiral…'

'Right now Captain. The Borg have been defeated, but there might be an even more dangerous threat we need you to investigate. Stop your ship!' Hanson sounded ernest, even desperate.

Slapping his comm badge Will called the helm. 'Mr Crusher, bring the Enterprise to a full stop immediately and await further instructions. Commander Shelby I want a full systems report as soon as I'm on the bridge.' Tapping it again disconnected the message.

'Good. Thank you Riker… Will. You are ordered to sector three-ten. That's well above the galactic elliptical plain and outside of regular space lanes. Once there I want you to scan for short range civilian comms traffic and follow it to it's source.'

Will sat back. 'Civilian traffic? What do you need me to do?'

Hanson sent a look through the screen that had it been phaser energy would have vaporised him. 'A full survey Captain. I want to know exactly what is out there, how many people, ships and whatever else you can find. Then I want a complete review of any supplies and resources they might need as a matter of urgency.'

Will tried to piece together what the Admiral was telling him to do. On one hand this had to be a threat equal or greater than the Borg, on the other there were talking about civilian vessels and aid. 'Admiral, if I might…'

'I can't discuss this Will. Not even on a code 47. Look I've one hell of a mess over here and it's only going to get worse, specially if the Klingons decide to finally arrive. Do your job and get back here as soon as you can. Hanson Out.' She screen went blank and then was replaced with the Federation flag. Earth, Andoria and Vulcan shining out brighter than the others. Will took a second to let it all sink in before getting back on his feet.

Walking onto the bridge Will saw everyone look to him. They wanted orders, the whole ship was on a knife edge waiting for him to decide what to do. Shelby, utterly fearless stepped up to him. 'Captain, with repairs the ship is now at optimal power and efficiency. Shields, phasers and Photon torpedoes are ready at your command.'

'Scanners?' he asked sharply, trying to puncture her bubble.

'Sir?'

Stepping past her he kept tight control over his emotions. 'Mr Worf, scan all haling frequencies for short-range bursts. Mr Crusher, set course for sector three-one-zero off the elliptical plain, prepare to engage at warp 6 on my command. Mr Data, scan the targeted sector with everything we have, we're looking for a civilian ship or ships at or near those co-ordinates.' he sat down in the Captain's chair. 'Riker to Dr Crusher.'

'I'm here Will.' Came the doctors voice.

'I need you on the bridge Doctor. Have your medical staff on standby.'

'On my way.'

Shelby finally seemed to move. After looking around the bridge she stood next to the Captains chair. 'Captain, could you explain what we're doing?'

'I would love to Commander, if I was able to. I am following Admiral Hanson's direct orders.'

'But the Borg…'

'…have apparently been destroyed. I assume with all hands.' Will said what he knew the crew feared. Besides him he heard Deanna gasp as Wesley spun in his chair to stare at his captain in shock.

* * *

Data ran this new information through his positronic processor. The conclusion was inescapable, yet somehow wrong. For almost a whole second he devoted his entire runtime to the problem yet still both the conclusion and the facts were incompatible.

Standing up the Android turned to face Captain Riker 'Please elaborate sir.' He requested. The rest of the bridge crew looked at him, there was something in their expressions he could not understand. Data decided to deal with one problem at a time and stored the question for later.

'Data. The Borg ship was intercepted at Wolf 359 and destroyed.' Captain Riker repeated slowly.

Again, the same facts. Data took a step forward. 'Not possible.' He explained, understanding that his processor must have calculated something his Commanding officer's organic counterpart must not have factored into the issue. 'Captain Picard was onboard the Borg cube. Were the Cube destroyed, Captain Picard would be killed.'

'Yes Data. Your point?' The Captain said in a quiet voice Data knew to be described as deceptively quiet.

With a sharp tilt of his head Data processed the information again. 'Impossible. The factors do not compute.'

Captain Riker looked at Data for a exactly 2.9457345 seconds before bursting out laughing. It was a low, almost bitter sound that did not match the usual sound of his laugher. 'I couldn't agree with you more Data. I couldn't agree with you more.' He laughed again. After another short pause, this one lasting only 1.867 seconds, Captain Riker stood up. 'I think we can all agree with Data on this. It does not compute, but we have our orders. Right now, at this moment in time, our duty is to the Federation. Not just to one man, no matter how important he is. We follow our orders before reporting to Hanson at Wolf 359. Once there I will demand a full investigation into the fate of the Captain. That is my duty to you and to him.'

Data ran this through his processor and was aware on some other level that his fellow crew members, even Captain Riker, were doing the same. Knowing that his systems had processed the scenario faster than his colleagues. 'That would be acceptable Captain.' What Data did not know was exactly why he chose those words.

Sitting back down Data stored the information and proceeded to enter the commands to begin scanning the sector of space ordered.

'Who'd have thought the most human among us would be the Android.' Captain Riker sighed. 'Mr Crusher, Engage.'

As the ship accelerated to Warp speeds Data began scanning. 'Scans of sector 310 coming in Captain. Nothing to report. Beginning to extend scan perimeters.'

'I am likewise not picking up any transmissions from that sector. Long or short range.' Lieutenant Worf announced.

Behind him Data heard the Turbo-lift open and the unmistakeable sound of Dr Crusher's footsteps came down the ramp. 'Will, What's going on?'

'Your guess is as good as mine Doctor. All I know is it would have to be important for the Admiral to divert us here at the last moment.' Captain Riker admitted and the ship continued to the new co-ordinates. 'Deanna, are you sensing anything?' he asked the Councillor

'I… I don't know.' She said in an uncertain voice. 'There is a great deal of uncertainty on board this ship. It's making it hard.' she gasped. 'Will, there's defiantly people out there. Lots of people.'

A subtle beep on his console returned Data's full attention to his duties. 'Captain, I'm picking up something on the extreme edge of sector 311.' he confirmed the readings. 'It is confirmed. Multiple vessels of unknown types. Power source unknown. They are travelling at sub warp speeds '

'How many ships Mr Data?' Captan Riker asked.

'Unable to get an exact count at this range, however I estimate more than two hundred vessels, based on distinct readings.'

'Two hundred ships?' Wesley gasped. 'Where are they heading?'

Data ran a number of complex calculations. 'Unable to get an exact course due to lack of relative speed, however based on our suggested location of the vessels in question and probability…'

'Earth.' Captain Riker interrupted, his guess was correct.

'Indeed.' Data confirmed.

The Captain didn't appear to hear him, however Data knew him well enough to know that was not the case. 'Now picking up multiple transmissions.' Lieutenant Worf announced before accessing them and presenting them to the bridge. To most it would be a meaningless overlapping of noise. To Data it was information to be processed.

'I am recognising at least One hundred and nine different transmissions. Thirty-eight are of a personal nature, a further fifty-six appear to be standard inter-fleet co-ordination. Ten appear to be news, or other current affair reports for public consumption.

'That still leaves four Data.' Wesley noticed.

'I… I am finding it difficult to identify those transmissions.' Data admitted. The coding was obscure, if there was a pattern to the encoding he could not lock on or decrypt it. 'They appear to be highly encoded. Possibly military in origin.'

'I recommend red alert Captain.' Lieutenant Worf suggested. 'We can't guarantee they are not hostile.'

Commander Shelby said:- 'I agree.'

'Good thing this ship isn't a democracy.' Captain Riker told them. 'Mr Crusher, set course to intercept and drop out of warp just within sensor range. I want all duty science teams in position. Mr Worf, go to yellow alert, but keep the shields down. If they do see us I don't want to start a fight.'

'Aye Captain.' Wesley nodded and changed course. 2.684 minutes later the Enterprise dropped out of warp. Data stood up from his station and headed to the science station at the back of the bridge. While operations was indeed a vital ship's function the science station had greater access to the required systems.

Data channeled the readings from the ships multiple sensor arrays to his new console. 'I can confirm two hundred and thirty-eight ships. Two hundred and twenty are of capital ship classification or greater. Two appear to be short range shuttles. Sixteen are small single person vessels. All utilising an unknown fuel source.'

'Weapons?' Lieutenant Worf asked.

'Impossible to know. I do not recognise their method of power generation. It appears to be independent of their main thrusters.' Data continued scanning 'Captain! Two of the smaller vessels have broken off from the fleet. The rest of the ships are accelerating!'

'Speed?'

'Full impulse. Some of the ships are already having trouble keeping formation.'

'Come to an all stop.' Captain Riker ordered. 'What's the heading of the other two ships Mr Worf?'

'Interception. Captain, they have already accelerated to five sixths the speed of light. Now Eight-ninths.'

'At current speed they should be in visual range momentarily.'

'I'd like them on screen, Mr Worf.' The view screen wavered as it's perimeters were reset. It focused on the approaching single person ships. They were small, consisting of three rear engines each with a short wing spaced out evenly along three axis. A relatively long nosecone came out from under a central cockpit.

Data directed the main sensors on to the ships ahead, attempting to get a better understanding of what powered the vessels. Something impossible caught his attention. He ran the scan again, this time deliberately focused on the species identification. There were some differences. Very much akin to the differences between Romulan and Vulcan but the conclusion was inescapable. 'Captain, scans of the pilots read as human.'

'Data's right Will, I can feel it. They're human, they both are!' The Councillor confirmed his readings

Captain Riker looked at the crew. 'That's not possible. Worf hail them. I want to talk with the pilots of those craft.'

'Hailing frequencies open Captain.'

'This is Captain William T. Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise.' He said carefully. 'Can you respond?'

The two ships flew past the Enterprise at a speed significant to that of light. Data attempted to compare them to any vehicle he had in his database. 'I have no collation to any vessels in my records. I can not identify their classification.'

'They're fighters. Single man attack craft.' Captain Riker identified them.

The comm system activated. 'This is Lieutenant Troy of the Galactica Green Squadron to Enterprise. You have entered Colonial Fleet space. What are your intentions?'

* * *

The world, the universe was an immense white void. Light seemed to come from the very air. If there was air. He won't sure where he was. The last thing… the last thing.

Jean-Luc was on his feet, after a moment he clutched at his head. 'Ohh Merde.' He swore, 'My head.' He could remember being on the Enterprise. Kidnapped and altered by the Borg. The uncounted billions in his head, all speaking as one. His voice joining in with the chorus, the voice of Locutus.

He'd fought, he fought with every last bit of strength he had but he might as well be trying to escape the pull of a collapsed star. He'd been Borg. Right down from his head to his toes. The only bit of Jean-Luc Picard left that what they let survive. What they could use.

Then that ship came. It brought death and he welcomed it. The Borg were confused by it, unprepared. They had tried to adapt but there was point of reference. It had no shields, overpowered engines and Jean-Luc fought back with everything he had, a mere flea bite in comparison but he had some satisfaction from that. The ship fired its main guns and he knew it was enough. That his people were safe and the Borg attack was finished.

'Now I'm dead. he said aloud into the empty void.

'Au Contraire, Mon Capitaine.' A familiar and much loathed voice told him. 'Not just yet.'

'Q!'

End Chapter One


	3. Chapter Two

The Hour of The Wolf  
Chapter Two

Starbuck chomped down on a fumerello as he watched the survivors. This Federation was an odd race. Well they weren't even a race. They were an amalgamation of different peoples. Most of them seemed to be human, but there were other people with all sorts of non human features thrown in.

Their shuttles were strange too, their small thrusters meant they could only short range, but there was a lot more room inside than in most small transports. Most Federation craft also had two large sponsons either side of the main hull. They looked like massive field generators, but Starbuck couldn't figure out what they would do.

Shrugging he headed to see one of the Galactica support teams. They, along with a few gold shirted Federation members, were moving some of the small ships out of the way. Benjamin was there overseeing the move.

The Federation had a strange ranking system where as well as specialities denoted by the colour of their uniforms Captain's ranked higher than Commanders. Benjamin was one of these Commanders, but in reality he was the same rank as Colonel Tigh or that of Strike Captain. Thing was the dark skinned Federation Officer hadn't quite grasped that and kept on coming to attention whenever Starbuck was near

'Captain Starbuck.' He stood up straighter.

'Benjamin, just heard from Cassiopeia and the med-techs. Your wife and son are alright. They're both on oxygen support for the some damage to their lungs, but both our and your doctors say they'll be on their feet in no time.'

Some of the stiffness flowed out of the other man as he too took breath. Starbuck had seen it before, hades he'd done it before more than once. Focus on working, on your job, to ignore the pain and worry. 'You alright?'

'Yes, yes I'm fine. Thank you captain.'

'Don't mention it.' Starbuck grinned and sucked on his fumerello again. 'How's things over here?'

'We've got the last of the escape pods on board. We lost a lot of good people, but thanks to you and this ship it wasn't more.'

'Just lucky to be passing through.' Starbuck shrugged before catching something from the corner of his eye. 'What the fracks going on over there?' he pointed at what looked like the start of a fight.

A blue skinned non-human, with a large ridge down their face was backing away from a couple of members of Council Security. Both he and Benjamin jogged over.

'What do you think you're doing? What is this thing?' one of the security officers snapped, waving what looked to be a handheld federation device.

'Ensign, report.' Benjamin ordered, quickly heading off the more colourful put down Starbuck had for the Blackshirt.

'Commander, I was… I was just…'

The blackshirt spun on Benjamin. 'Council security, sir. Your man here was pointing this at one of our shuttles.' The device in his hand was bleeping and a tiny readout seemed to be flickering. 'Is it some kind of weapon?'

'Don't be a Galmonging Snikrat Reece.' Starbuck snapped. 'Anyone with half a brain can tell you that's a handheld scanner.'

'We call it a tricorder. Like Captain Starbuck said, it's just a scanner.'

'Why was he scanning our deck?' Reece snapped.

Starbuck had never liked Security, least of all Reece and his cronies. Grabbing the device he handed it to Benjamin before either of them could protest. 'You read this thing?'

'Of course.' he frowned at it. 'The ensign was doing a quantum dating scan. Trying to get the age of the ship, but the tricorder must be damaged some how.'

'Why?' Starbuck asked and the ensign answered.

'Sir! I was checking our shuttle for structural damage when I got a reading on the deck. I couldn't believe it so I ran a full diagnostic. I was trying to identify the fault in the tricorder.'

'Sounds reasonable to me.' Starbuck pointed out to the blackshirts. They glared at the three of them before slinking off, probably to accost an orphan playing to loudly. 'Sorry about that, They think just because they get their mandate from the Council they're doing the Lords work!'

Benjamin snapped the scanner shut with a flick of his wrist. 'What's your name Ensign?'

'Bjot Commander. Ensign Bjot Assigned to the USS Melbourne.'

'Well then Ensign, this won't go on record, but next time your tricorder malfunctions try a different one. We're guests here and we don't know their customs, or laws.'

'Yes sir, but that was the third tricorder I tried.'

Starbuck shook his head. 'What's the problem?'

Benjamin opened the tricorder again. 'The quantum scan, it says actions of the deck plating are over eight hundred years old.'

Starbuck thought about that. 'I'm not sure how long a "year" is supposed to be, but the Galactica is over five hundred yahren old.'

'Five hundred?' Benjamin gaped.

'Oh yes, the old girl was one of the first twelve Battlestars and now she's the last.' He told his new friend who looked as if he'd just lost a yahren's pay on card game to a perfect hand. 'What?'

* * *

Troy pulled off a tight turn and headed back towards the ship. It seemed to be made of four main sections. An upper saucer, a lower section and two large pylons. All connected to the lower section as a sort of central hub. From behind he could see that its engines were small, a slit like thruster in the middle of the wide neck between saucer and hub and two more either side of where the neck met the saucer.

His comm system crackled into life 'This is Captain William Riker of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Your fleet is currently in Federation space and on course for our administrative capital. We have been sent to identify your intentions.'

Troy looked over his shoulder at his wingman who nodded back. 'We are refugees Captain. The last survivors of our people, searching for our ancient brothers. We are no threat to you or your Federation.' Easing back on the throttle Troy used the retro thrusters to come to a complete stop. If this strange looking, almost delicate, ship was a threat he had them right in his sights.

'Good to hear Lieutenant.' There was a pause before Captain William spoke again. 'This ship was responding to an attack by one of our enemies in this region when we were redirected here at the last moment and look for your fleet.'

'Our base ship responded to a series of distress calls nearby, leaving my squadron behind for defence.' Troy admitted. 'Captain, with your permission I'd like to land. Discuss this face to face.'

'Hold transmission.' There was a pause where the signal cut out. Obviously the Captain was thinking about it. It snapped back on 'Agreed, we can beam your fighter into our main shuttle bay.'

'Beam?' Troy didn't know what that meant and told them so.

'We have a technology that allows us to transport you from where you are to inside this ship.' To Troy that sounded a little too much like magic and he'd never trust it even if it wasn't.

'Negative Enterprise. just open the bay and we'll land.' Above the engine strips, almost at the very top of the ship a large bulkhead opened. It wasn't as big as one of the Galactica's bay's, but there were smaller amongst the fleet. 'Dillon, you follow me in.'

'Confirmed.' His usually jocular wingman responded. 'This is going to be a tight fit.'

'We've done worse on simulators, hades we've done worse trying to land on the schooling ship.' He was kidding of course. The docking bay might have been smaller on the old transport, but you only ever landed a shuttle on that thing. Vipers had much more sensitive controls and one wrong move could mean disaster.

Still, he was the son and grandson of two of the best warriors his people had ever known. Tapping the controls he brought his Viper in a shallow angle and so slow that it was almost going backwards.

Passing through the bay's magnetic shield he felt the controls rock slightly, but not enough to put him off. Inside was a hanger deck that took up most of the level. there were a number of small support craft docked inside but there was more than enough room for Troy to stop the viper safely. 'Watch that entry.' he warned Dillon as he followed.

'Got it.' A few microns later the other Viper pulled to a stop. Troy had taken the time to run an atmosphere check. Pressure was a little lower than that on the Galactica, gravity a little lower too. Nothing damaging, but it would be noticeable. Opening the canopy Troy got a chance to look around.

Behind him the bay's bulkhead was already closing and above he could see windows looking down on them. On the other side of the transparent panels were what looked to be technicians looking back at him. As he pulled himself out he saw a hatch open to one side of a large central pillar in the middle of the hanger. Outstepped several crew members, some were human looking others not. Their uniforms were strange too. A single jumpsuit like the pressure suits pilots wore under their uniform, just a little less form fitting, with a large auric section across the torso.

The biggest and most imposing of them was a hulking non-human with broad shoulders, mid length hair and a silver sash over his chest. Of the other three two looked human and the third had a slightly green shade to their skin and pointed ears. 'I am Lieutenant Worf.' The big man growled as Troy took off his helmet. 'Chief of security.'

'I guess you don't have that many problems then.' Dillon joked as he climbed down on to the deck.

'I'm here to escort you to the observation room.' He told them before looking at their holsters. 'No weapons onboard.'

Troy was half way down from his Viper and drew his laser. 'Do as he says Dillon.' Flicking the activation switch with his thumb he threw it back into his cockpit before closing it. He jumped the rest of the way down and turned to see that the security officers had their own pistols. The security chief had it half drawn before ramming it back in place. They were strange curved things, holstered on their left hip. That meant they had to reach across their own bodies to draw. Carefully Lieutenant Worf let go of his pistol and waited for Dillon to climb back down.

Both Troy and Dillon were eventually escorted to the same hatchway the security officers had come from. It was a small ascension tube, voice activated when Worf barked his order at the ceiling. Troy was taking a risk boarding an unknown ship but it was calculated. If they were telling the truth then everything would work out, if not the fleet was still on maximum and putting a lot of distance between them.

The tube came to a stop and they were escorted into a room dominated by a large window. From the direction they had moved and the curve of the window Troy guessed they whereat or near the top of the ship. Inside a red haired woman in a blue uniform was sitting at a table with a number of other officers and was arguing with the man at the head of the table. 'Frankly Will I don't agree. We need to know what happened to Jean-Luc.'

'Doctor I agree, but Admiral Hanson was his friend too. I have to believe that if he sent us here it was because here is were we need to be. If the battle is over then we can't change what's already happened. Either the Captain was rescued and is safe or not. There is nothing we can do right now.' Captain William was another large man. Human with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His uniform was red and Troy noticed four Auric pins on his dark grey collar. The doctor had two and an extra one that had been blacked out. It was obviously a symbol of rank. Much like the warrior pin he and other full warriors wore.

'Captain.' He came to attention. 'Lieutenant Troy.'

'Welcome Lieutenant, please sit down.' Captain William waved his hand at a pair of empty seats. 'As you can tell were still trying to gather up what informant we can. Command is being tight lipped about what happened.'

He began pointing to members of his crew. 'Doctor Beverly Crusher, ships chief medical officer. Lieutenant Commander Data, ship's operations officer and Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge, chief engineer. This is Ships councillor Deanna Troi. You've met Lieutenant Worf.

Troy looked at each of them, the only one not in uniform was the Councillor. 'Madam councillor.' He nodded respectfully, not quite sure what such a high ranking politician was doing on board or involved in what was strictly a military meeting, but that wasn't important. 'Lieutenant Troy, this is my partner Lieutenant Dillon. Battlestar Galactica, Green Squadron.'

'A pleasure to meet you.' The councillor said with a politicians smile before looking to Captain William.

'Now that we all know each other, let's see if we can figure out just what hell we do now?' The Captain suggested.

* * *

Commander Adama lent back in his chair and brought the recorder up. 'To have come so far, suffered so much, all to find a place that many of us, even myself, had begun to doubt had ever existed. Our long journey is finally over, we have found our lost brothers. Yet now I fear that in our haste… in our desperation… we failed to ask important questions. Can our lost siblings help us? Will they? Will they welcome us as friends, embrace us as brothers or come to see us as enemies? Do they have enemies of their own? Are we blundering once again into a political and social fog that our very presence could throw into terrible possibilities. Questions that answers could doom us all, in the fleet, the Federation and possibly beyond.' He paused, feeling the weight of destiny settling on his shoulders. 'Lords of Kolbol, what have I done?'

Putting the recorder down he read the words on the screen. After a moment he deleted the last seven of them and stood up from his desk. Outside the porthole to his office the Commander of the Galactica, President of the Twelve Colonies, watched as Federation ships hung there, waiting for his next decision. Beyond them the cube shaped ship who's attack brought them here in the first place.

The war with the Cylons had begun the same way. A Commander offing aid to a desperate people, the Hasari, who were already at war with the mechanical empire. Adama had often asked himself if he would have done the same, knowing what he knew now. The terrible price it had cost the human race. Safe in the knowledge that it was academic he'd always answered yes, yes he would because the ideals he fought for were worth it.

Were they now? Now that an academic debate had become cold hard reality? Had he, like most fools before him, failed to learn the mistakes of the past? Or was his pride, his hubris, exactly that?

His hatch slid open and in walked Adama's son and Colonel Tigh 'You wanted to see us father?' Apollo asked.

'Yes, yes I did. Come in, both of you. Seal the hatch behind you.' They did as he asked. 'This cannot go further than the three of us. If word of this reaches the fleet there could be an uproar. How's the Galactica Tigh?'

'We took some superficial damage, but she's seen worse. What's this about?'

Adama looked again at the ships outside. 'I've finished my talk with Admiral Hanson, I've learnt things. Important things. The Federation is a vast alliance of worlds and people spread across almost a hundred solar systems. One of it's founding members is Earth.'

'Earth?' Apollo whispered, unable to hide the smile on his face. 'We did it, we made it!'

'No! This galaxy is far larger than our own, there are more peoples than just the Federation. It vies against other interstellar governments in a complicated web of treaties, alliances and wars. Our presence could drastically effect the balance of power for this whole quadrant of the Galaxy. The coming secton's are going to be difficult. Over the long yahrens of our journey I've come to rely on you both as my guides and my conscience. I'm going to need you both be so for just a little while longer.'

Tigh shook his head 'That's been you Adama. It's always been you, you did it. When all hope was lost we looked to you. You can't give up now, not when we are so close.'

'I'm not giving up, old friend, but we have to be ready for the next battle and this one could cost us everything.'

* * *

Apart from the two of them the void was completely empty. A vast emptiness with no beginning or end. There were no boundaries, no horizon and certainly no land marks. Picard wasn't even sure he was standing on anything or if there was such a concept of direction in this cold, hollow place. 'This way Jean-Luc.' Q, appearing as ever in the guise of a Starfleet Captain, waved Picard on.

'Where are we Q?' he snapped back.

'What is the last thing you remember?' the omnipotent being asked. It as obvious Q knew the answer to both questions, but was playing another one of his twisted games.

Picard sighed before rubbing his temples. 'I was on the Borg cube, their devices… their voice in my mind. I was one of them. Battling the fleet J.P. gathered when that ship came out of nowhere and blew us… blew them out of space like the Cube was a cargo scow.'

'Apt description Mon Capitaine.' Q laughed. 'Tell me, do you think you survived?'

'This is not the afterlife Q. I refuse to believe that the universe is so dysfunctional that you are god.' Picard denied him.

'You wound me Jean-Luc. You think me to petty a thing as god?' He laughed again, this time he wasn't mocking him. 'You're right though this isn't heaven. No, but we are close.'

'So is that where we're going?' he asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

'So paranoid, so full of questions! No Captain our destination is somewhere far more dangerous. Knowledge.' With that he carried on, whistling a nonsense hiking tune deliberately off key.

Setting his shoulders Picard followed. He could have walked for hours, days, or only seconds it was impossible to tell, when he thought he heard something. The tinkling of faint bells on the wind.

'About time.' Snapped Q before coming to a stop.

'Dreadfully sorry. had to make sure I wasn't followed.' A cultured voice with a upper english accent came from the nothing around them.

Picard couldn't see who ti as that was talking and was not amused. 'Who's there?'

The voice was coming from all around. 'Well My name, at least the one you can call me, is John. Sorry about not being able to see me, it's a side effect of who, or rather what, I am.' Something touched Picard's shoulder and it felt like he'd received an mild electric shock. 'There we go.'

Suddenly there was a man there. Dressed in all white. 'There isn't that better. Now Captain, to business.'

Off to one side Q made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.

End Chapter Two


	4. Chapter Three

The Hour of The Wolf  
Chapter Three

Will sat back in his chair and studied the two strange men. They were both in matching uniforms. A tan flight suit with what looked like horizontal ribbing across the chest, over it they wore brown leather jackets with large silver buckles. Their belts had a holster for a large weapon of some kind and on the other side three gold ovals Will had no idea what they were for.

William Riker, newly field promoted captain of the Enterprise, flagship of the Starfleet and pride of the Federation listened as the Lieutenant in front of him told him what he could about his people

'The Fleet consists of two hundred and twenty ships, refugee ships Captain. We're the last survivors of the war between our people, the Twelve colonies, and our enemies, the Cylon Alliance. A war we lost.'

'What happened?' Dr Crusher asked.

Lieutenant Troy took a deep breath, obviously gathering his thoughts. 'For nearly a thousand Yahen we were involved in one war or another. Pirates, alien raiders then finally the Cylons. They're a race of machines, no conscience and no remorse. Just a cruel, calculating intelligence devoted to their own goals and needs. As my father explained it to me, a long time ago there were real Cylons, they built drones to do their bidding, but something when wrong, they rebelled and now seek to destroy all others. Until they rule the cosmos.'

Will stroked his beard and sat back. 'There's no chance of negotiation?'

That brought a bitter laugh and Will could have sworn he saw Deanna shudder from it. 'We hoped so, at one time. The war had ground to a dead lock. We had a slight advantage in technology and far better pilots. The Cylons on the other hand had almost unlimited numbers and resources. Many people felt it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed us. Then Councillor sire Baltar came to the Council with news.'

The warrior stood up an walked around the desk, looking out of the conference room and amongst the stars. 'He claimed to have been in communication with the Cylon's imperious leader. He told us through long negotiation the Cylons had come to understand our position and agreed that further conflict was pointless. It was a lie, Baltar, the arch traitor, had betrayed us and all of humanity for the promise of dominion over his people.'

'We were tired of war Captain. we'd fought for so long and lost so much that we welcomed the news with open arms. I was just a child at the time, my mother was a reporter for Caprica's current information transmissions. We were at the Presidium, just outside the capital building. There was going to be parties in the streets, parades planed in every town across the system. Our warriors were coming home. Peace at long last. The Council had set out with the fleet to meet with the Cylon Imperious Leader and sign the accords…'

'My god.' Deanna whispered, her eyes fixed on the table. Will couldn't blame her. He could almost see what was going to happen.

Troy continued '…They ambushed the fleet with countless thousands of Raiders, we didn't know about that part then, not until after. After they had destroyed the Colonies.' He took another breath. 'I thought it was fireworks at first. Flashes lighting up the night sky for miles around. Most of the military bases were destroyed from orbit, before they had a chance to launch. Civilian targets like Caprica City were strafed with wave after wave of Raiders, so many I couldn't tell what was star and what was fighter. They first targeted fuel distribution centres, sowing chaos then they moved on to emergency services as they tried to respond. After that they began Pluton bombing our countryside and farming resources, poisoning our supplies. Only then did they start going for the spaceports, when they were full of people, panicking and desperate to escape the carnage. My mother and I saw what was happening and fled to the hills. There with a couple hundred survivors we watched our civilisation burn.'

Will tried to imagine that, even with the treat of the Borg attacking Earth he hadn't fully had time to think about the implications. The idea of his world being destroyed chilled him, but this… What had just been described was something else. The total, deliberate, and methodical destruction of, if Will was guessing correctly twelve worlds. As a man, and a starfleet officer, he knew that there shouldn't be something as simple as true evil. Differing ideals, opposed perspectives of course but unrepentant evil. No nothing like that.

At least nothing he'd heard of, until now. He watched as, shakily, Deanna stood up, 'You'll have to excuse me.' she mumbled before collapsing into Doctor Crusher in a dead faint.

'Crusher to Sickbay, medical emergency observation lounge!'

* * *

Hanson sat up straight. 'I assure you Council Member, at the time we truly believed that the Borg threat required the assistance of the Klingon Defence Forces.'

'Yet only now, long after the battle is over, do you bother to contact us to say that this threat was nothing of the kind.' The Klingon on the viewer snarled.

'As I said, it was only through the wildest stroke of luck that we were able to defeat the Cube. A lucky brake we are still investigating, as soon as I had confirmed that the Borg threat was over and that my forces were safe I contacted you.' 'To tell us that our assistance was no longer required.' He growled back. 'The Klingon empire is not some attack dog you can call to heel at the slightest whim. I warn you Admiral there are changes coming to the Empire, this insult will not be forgotten.'

Hanson tried to keep his best poker face, he'd been involved in politics for a long time and knew how to play. Thing with Klingon politics was not to give them the slightest leeway. 'There was no insult Council Member. As I said…'

'The wildest stroke of luck.' he quoted back. 'I'd be very interested in just what this stroke of luck was, Admiral.'

'We are investigating as I speak Council Member. Of course we will share all pertinent information with yourself and the rest of the High Council.'

The Klingon growled and spat out a curse the universal translator was programmed to ignore. 'We will decide what is pertinent human!' He bellowed. 'I will expect a full report to me, alone, within the day.'

'Understood, Council Member Duras.' Hanson backed down from what was obviously a trap.

'Be sure you do. Qapla'!' He replied and cut transmission. For a few moments Hanson sat there and glared at the blank screen, lost in thought. He never knew a Klingon to refuse a fight, but there was something about his outrage that didn't sit right with J.P.

'Computer, calculate time at maximum warp from our current location to Qo'noS.'

'Twenty six hours, seventeen minutes.' The computer responded promptly. Just over a day, but Hanson had sent the request to the Klingon homeworld nearly three days ago. He'd even chosen 359 as the place to stop the Borg Cube because it was the closest point the ships path took it to Klingon space.

That he'd been able to gather his fleet in the same amount of time and get them here was a testament to the professionalism and efficiency of his people. When it came to a fight Klingons might not be professional, but they more than made up for that with eagerness. Flicking through his logs Hanson checked his recent communications with the Klingon Homeworld.

He'd contacted the High Chancellor directly and it had been Duras's request that he be put in charge of the support fleet. A duty he seemed to be very slow at fulfilling. Reviewing the last transmission in his head Hanson at last let his poker face drop with a frown. 'If I didn't know any better Council Member, I'd almost think you wanted Earth to be assimilated.' He tilted his head back to the ceiling. 'Computer. Last Federation ship to visit Qo'noS, identify.'

'USS Enterprise, NCC-1701-D. Stardate 43685.2.' Six months ago, Hanson grinned. Perfect.

'Scan all available logs, did the Enterprise interact with with Klingon High Council during it's visit?'

There was a pause. 'Affirmative. Enterprise mission involved escorting security chief Lieutenant Worf for legal hearing before High Council. Regarding accusation of his father's betrayal of Klingon forces during Khitomer Massacre. Stardate 23859.7.'

That got Hanson's attention. The Khitomer Massacre was a slaughter when the Romulans attacked the planet, killing off the Klingon colony there. It was one of, if not the, most important events that led to the strengthening of the alliance between the two galactic powers. 'Computer, provide full summery of the Enterprise's mission, including outcome of the hearing.'

Another pause. 'Lieutenant Worf challenged the ruling of the Klingon High Council that his father was guilty of betrayal. After an attack on his Cha'Dlch, Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood as Lieutenant Worf's second during the remainder of the challenge. Lieutenant Worf withdrew the challenge, according to Klingon Law he was banished and his house dishonoured.'

Something didn't ring true about that either. 'Computer, why was the challenge withdrawn?'

'Access to personal logs restricted.' Came the quick reply.

'Of course.' Hanson shook his head, it wouldn't be that easy. 'Is there any record of who made the accusation against Lieutenant Worf?'

'Affirmative. Council Member Duras.'

'Why am I not surprised.' Hanson muttered and sat back again. Not for the first time he wished his old friend Jean-Luc was still alive. It said something that the duty bound frenchman had chosen to stand by his officers side. He respected him, enough to risk his life for his officers honour. Klingon judicial practise was more akin to a school yard brawl than a Federation court room. Jean-Luc was also a good judge of character. It would take something pretty significant for a Klingon to back down. Hanson remembered the large warrior from his last time on the Enterprise. Despite the uniform he was every inch the Klingon. A feeling Hanson didn't get from his brief discussions with the Council Member.

'Something's rotten in the heart of Denmark.' he muttered again to himself, remembering the Klingon love of Shakespeare. With Jean-Luc gone there was only one other man that he could rely on giving him the answers he needed.

* * *

Data found the two humans to be interesting. After a brief introduction they, at first, appeared to distrust him. Actively repulsed by his very existence. However, after a moment the senior of the two, Lieutenant Troy, was able to collect himself, as the customary phrase went, and explained.

From their reaction and his understanding of human behaviour it was unsurprising that they had reacted as such. Data calculated a high possibility that he too would be reacting in a similar fashion, were he in possession of emotions. 'I am curious, Lieutenant, was there not a morality failsafe programmed into the Cylon's drones?'

The dark haired man shared a look with his compatriot. 'Truth is we don't know that much about them. What we do is mostly just rumour and legend, all the real Cylons died out long before we made contact.'

'Do you have a morality failsafe?' the other pilot, Dillon, challenged.

Data nodded, it was a useful human habit he had programmed into himself. 'Of course.' After a short pause he calculated to be just long enough he changed the subject. 'Please, this way.' Data guided them to the tubolift.

It took him only a fraction of a moment to decide where the best place to begin their impromptu tour of the ship should be. Of all the sectors available to visitors and guests the most practical was Ten Forward. Commanding the Tubolift to take them there he returned his attention to the pilots. 'Is the Councillor prone to fainting?' Lieutenant Dillon asked carefully.

'No.' Said Mr Worf emphatically. 'She is not.'

'Councillor Troi is half-Batazoid.' Data explained. 'As such she is Empathic, the ability to sense feelings and emotions in others.'

The pilots shared another look. 'That would come in very useful at meetings of your Council.' Lieutenant Troy said as the Tubolift came to a stop

Data ran the statement through his processor again but neither time did he see the connection. 'I do not understand.' He admitted. Mr Worf seemed to be just as unaware as to the meaning of that statement.

'The Colonies were ruled by the Council of Twelve, so Councillor Troi would be on your ruling council.' Lieutenant Dillon explained as if it was simple.

Data ran the comparison and detected the disconnection. 'I understand.' He announced. 'Councillor Troi does not hold a political position, she is the ships psychiatrist. One who's council we seek when in need of emotional support.' He offered the definition.

They seemed to be confused by this themselves. 'Emotional support? Surely training helps prepare the members of the crew for the stress related to space travel.'

'Yes, usually. However we have discovered that certain issues and problems can arise that we not prepared for. A trained psychologist can assist where needed.' Data explained.

Lieutenant Troy had a differing perspective. 'We find that it's easier to talk to one another. As a team we can solve any problem that alone we find too challenging.'

'That is how it is onboard a Klingon ship.' Mr Worf agreed, Data recognised the fact that the Klingon had, in the four years onboard, not to his knowledge confided in the Councillor.

Tilting his head enough to imply both interest and enlightenment Data lead them into Ten Forward and let Worf explain the rooms function.

'Your officer's mess.' Lieutenant Dillon summed up after a moment.

Recognising the term Data agreed and was about to say as much when Guinan, Manager of the bar almost ran toward them. It was the fastest Data had ever seen the usually serene woman move. 'By all that's good in the universe, Colonial Warriors!' she gasped. 'Please, please sit down. I knew I should have saved the last of that Ambrosia!'

Guinan lead them to a table, 'So, at last, the Thirteen colonies of Kobol are united.'

'What?' Lieutenant Troy asked siting down in what Data would have to categorise as a stunned shock. 'We've found Earth?'

Guinan smiled softly and nodded. 'Yes, they helped found the Federation. Built this ship and dozens of others to explore the universe. Tell me about the colonies, your cities are so beautiful, I keep meaning to get back there and see them again.'

* * *

Deanna woke up and instantly regretted it. Curling up into as tight a ball as she could she began to cry. 'Hey, hey. It's okay, it's okay.' Her imzati said putting a hand on her shoulder. 'It'll be alright.'

'No Will, no it won't. It can't.' She shuddered. 'He was telling the truth, he was there. He could still see it as if it was yesterday and for a moment there so could I.' She wasn't prepared for that, no one could be. It had taken a lifetime for them to adapt and adjust to what they had seen and the pain was still titanic.

'Deanna, I'm sorry. If I'd have know I would have never asked you to be there.' Will admitted and some how she felt that was the truth. Past the endless, infinite grief that she'd touched.

Calling on all the reserves of strength she had Deanna sat up. Before she could asked Beverly handed her something to wipe her eyes with. 'Where are they?' she asked.

'Worf and Data are giving them a tour of the ship.'

Deanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'We have to help them Will. We have to.'

'I know and we will. If I have anything to say about it we will.' She felt his determination and for a moment, just a moment, she felt like everything could be alright again.

Then the comm system beeped 'Shelby to Captain Riker.'

'I'm here commander, what's wrong?'

'Sensors just detected an energy surge between us and the civilian fleet. We have a new contact, rapidly decelerating. It just changed course to intercept with us.'

Will frowned for a second, deciding what to do. Deanna recognised that flicker of indecision, weighing up the options and considering a dozen different factors she had no knowledge or experience in. 'Hail them Commander, try to identify them and their intentions but keep the shields down .'

'Aye Captain.'

* * *

Ben Sisko followed Captain Starbuck down the corridor. The size of this ship amazed him. For the last few years he'd been interested in ship design, looking to design one himself eventually, so he had some idea of the skill and effort that must have gone into this ancient vessel.

'It was immense, built out of powerful solid materials and engineering knowledge he could only begin to grasp. 'This way Commander.' Starbuck led him into a room. He thought it was a room, instead it was a command centre

The back of the room was taken up by a large transparent star-chart. Another room to one side was full of monitors and controls, that looked to Ben as a set of science stations. On the opposite wall was a large Viewport that looked over to bow of the Battlestar. The middle of the room had a command dais looking over everything, including a shrunken pit with a number of officers maintaining ships systems.

There were three people on the dais, all wearing a blue version of Starbuck's standard uniform. One sat at a chair, monitoring several controls, another stood over his shoulder overseeing everything like a first officer and the last turned to face him. This man had to be the Battlestar's commander and if any man could be said to look like his ship it was him. While his hair and beard shock white with age he was still in shape. 'Commander Adama, may I present Commander Benjamin Sisko.'

'Ahh, greetings. Starbuck believes we can trust you and while I might not share his fondness for fumerellos I know him to have good instincts. We need to talk Commander, the fate of your people and ours may rest on that.'

End Chapter Three


End file.
